The Troublesome Tea
by bipping
Summary: Whilst attending a World Meeting, England spills his tea...


**Author's Note: **

I've realised that it might be a better idea to put a short a/n at the beginning, with like a disclaimer and stuff, and then a longer one at the end, seeing as these all seem to be long. This way, people who don't want to read a/n's can skip it, and I can like, talk about plot development and stuff (if I ever get into writing something with a continuous plot line) without giving it away!

There appears to be quite a bit of swearing in this. The worst word is that damn "F" word. It is used quite a few times, and I'm mentioning that now, just in case I rate this incorrectly. Once again, I apologise for spelling and grammar mistakes. Spelling and grammar are not my strong points. I misspelt my name once. And not even when it was cute to misspell your name; I was eleven. Eleven.

And I'm still not Hidekaz Himaruya, so none of the characters, or Hetalia in general, belong to me.

The world affairs in this story are kind of delayed. I wrote it in summer, during the London riots, so yeah, in accurate portrayal of modern affairs. Just imagine it's summer.

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><p>There was nothing England liked more than a nice cup of British tea. After a stressful day, he enjoyed nothing more than settling down with a good book and a decent brew.<p>

Today had been a significantly awful day. Not only had all his ideas and input during the World Meeting met boos and hisses from America for "not being awesome enough" and constant criticism for France for being "too English,"but he had been teased for the recent riots in his home. He;d heard at least twelve unpleasant comments about his police force, and several unkind jokes had been told at his expense. He didn't find any of it even remotely amusing. To be honest, he found it all rather rude. He didn't laugh at the misfortune of other countries (excluding France), and England wasn't the only nation that had been experiencing hard times; America had just suffered through various natural disasters, and Seychelles had witnessed her first shark attack in around twenty years. Where were their snide remarks and snooty comments?

During the riots, England hadn't had time for a cup of tea; he'd had far too much on his plate, whilst his brothers had just sat back and laughed as his capital and several other major cities had burnt.. Between sorting out that, and preparing for the meeting, he;d barely had time for tea, and when he had, it'd been instant. Instant. He was England, for Christ's sake! He deserved better tha instant tea. Much, much better.

Finally holding a proper cup of tea, the island nation sighed. Even it's aroma was soothing. In fact, he found something very relaxing about the entire process of preparing tea; from boiling the kettle, to pouring in milk, making sure you put in the exact right amount, to stirring the two liquids together. Sometimes he would find himself absent mindedly stirring the tea whilst he was distracted by something else, purely because it calmed him down. He felt a wave of tranquillity wash over him. He closed his eyes, lifted the cup to his lips and-

"England? ENGLAND!" France's echoing voice from somewhere behind him made him jump, causing the majority of his tea to spill out and stain his suit.

"Shit!" he yelled, both with the displeasure of spilling his tea, and the anger that came with the knowledge he would have to speak to France in the near future. He stood up, and examined the damage to his trousers.

"Oh England, there you are! I-" France suddenly stopped his sentence and stared at the smaller country. "Well," he finally continued, "this is awkward."

"What?" replied a confused England. "What's awkward?"

France meekly gestured with is hand. "This."

"What? What is 'this'? Why is it awkward?"

America, popping out of nowhere, rested his elbow on England's shoulder and leant against him. "Dude, he said, talking with his free hand as well as his obnoxiously loud voice," the fact that you don't know why this is awkward makes this so much more awkward."

"What? What is awkward?" England was beginning to lose his temper. He clenched his fists and glared at the two of them, demanding an answer. He saw America's eyes flick from his face to his trousers, and then back up again. England glanced down. "oh, that?" He asked, pointing to the considerably large stain on his trousers. "That's just where I spilt my tea."

"Uh-huh," nodded America. "Of course it is."

"But...it really is just tea."

America patted him on the back. "Whatever you say, Iggs." England frown in displeasure. "It's just tea and my name is England!"

France nodded. "We know mon ami, we know."

"Look, I don't care what either of you bastards think, it really is just tea!"

America placed his hand on the smaller country's shoulder. "As long as you believe it's tea Iggs, that's all that matters," he smiled.

"Why aren't either of you bastards listening to me?" England shouted, finally snapping. "It's just where I spilt my fucking tea!"

France looked down. "You know Angleterre, it really is pathetic that you have convinced yourself it is merely tea."

"BUT IT IS TEA!" he yelled in reply. "I HAVE NOT CONVINCED MYSELF OF ANYTHING! AND FURTHERMORE, I REFUSE TO BE ADRESSED IN THAT RIDDICULOUS COMBINATION OF LETTERS YOU CALL A LANGUAGE!"

America couldn't help but snicker. He liked it when England made fun of someone who wasn't him. He didn't even understand why England was mean to him. He was the hero, after all.  
>However, the island nation quickly turned his attention on his former colony. "I don't know why you're laughing!" he sneered. "You're just as bad!"<p>

America was outraged. "WHAT?"

"My name," started England, closing his eyes and clenching his fists,"is England. Not "Iggs", not "Iggy", and," he opened his eyes for a moment, just to stare angrily at France, "certainly not "Angleterre". England."

France flicked a loose strand of his hair over his shoulder. ""Angleterre" is so much more beautiful than "England"," he muttered. England re-closed his eyes to avoid looking at the wanker.

"You will address me a such," he continued, ignoring France's comment. "If you do not wish to call me "England," I will also accept "the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland". The choice is yours." He opened his eyes and folded his arms. He smiles at the expressions on the faces of his "friends".

And then, America started laughing.

"Iggy," he said, much to England's horror, "I will call you "the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland" when that stain on your pants magically turns into tea!"

"BUT IT IS TEA, YOU WANKER!" he shouted. It had happened. He had broken. He couldn't take it anymore. They were going to accept it was tea, and move on. He grabbed a fistful of America's hair, and forced the top of his head towards the stain. "LOOK! IT'S TEA!"

"Dude, okay! If you wanna say it's tea-"

"IT IS TEA!" England interrupted a panicked America. He grabbed the hem of his shirt, also stained by tea, and brought it upwards. "SEE? IT'S FUCKING. ENGLISH. TEA!"

"England-"

"IT'S JUST TEA! SUCK IT IF YOU DON'T BELIEVE ME!"

"I believe you! I believe you!"

"SUCK IT AMERICA! SUCK IT!"

"But I don't wanna-"

"BY GOD AMERICA, YOU ARE SODDING WELL GOING TO SUCK IT, AND THEN YOU WILL REALISE THAN YOU WERE FUCKING WRONG, AND I WAS FUCKING RIGHT, AND IT'S ONLY A BLOODY TEA STAIN!"

"Englaandd!" wailed America. He tried to wiggle out of his grip, but it was unuasually strong. This panicked America even further, as he was the stronger of the two.

France just watched. He just stood there, watching. His eyes were wide, his hands clapsed under him chin, and his mouth hanging open in the largest smile he's smiled in years.

"SUCK IT AMERICA!"

"No! You can't make me!"

"A HERO WOULD SUCK IT! YOU WANT TO BE THE HERO, DON'T YOU AMERICA?"

"I'm so the hero!"

"THEN SUCK IT! BE A FUCKING HERO AND SUCK IT!"

"NO! I WILL NEVER DO IT!"

"YES YOU WILL! YOU ARE GOING TO SUCK IT!"

America flailed, still trying to loosen England's unnaturally firm grip. "NEVER!"

"WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM? IT'S NOT THAT HARD AMERICA! JUST SUCK IT!" England raised his shirt and tried to bring it closer to America, whose attempts to escape were failing. "SUCK IT AMERICA!"

"NO! I DON'T WANNA! I'M NOT GUNNA! YOU AIN'T GUNNA MAKE ME! I'M THE HERO, AN' I AIN'T SUCKIN' YOUR SHIRT!"

"YOU BLOODY WELL ARE! AND FURTHERMORE, YOU WILL NOT DISGRACE THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE IN MY PRESSENCE, YOU WANKER!"

America laughed. "I'LL DISGRACE YOUR FUCKIN' LANGUAGE ANYWAY I WANT! I'M AMERICA!"

"I RAISED YOU BETTER THAN THIS, YOU ARROGANT SOD! I DID NOT TEACH YOU PROPPER GRAMMAR TO LISTEN TO YOU THROW ENGLISH ARROUND LIKE THIS!"

"DUDE, GET OVER YOURSELF! IT AIN'T YOUR FUCKIN' LANGUAGE ANYMORE! I'M SPEAKING AMERICAN! IT'S THE LANGUAGE OF FREEDOM!"

"IT'S THE LANGUAGE OF IDIOTS!"

"DUDE, MY LANGUAGE IS AWESOME!"

"YOUR LANGUAGE IS A FUCKED UP ATTEMPT AT MINE!"

"MY language is beautiful and full of love," mumbled France to himself, smiling.

"THAT'S ALL YOU'VE EVER BEEN AMERICA, A FUCKED UP ATTEMPT AT RECREATING ENGLAND! NOW SUCK THE BLOODY TEA!"

"I AM NOTHING LIKE YOU ENGLAND! YOU'RE BORING, ANNOYING AND STUPID, AND I'M AWESOME!"

"OH, I'M STUPID? THAT'S RICH, COMING FROM YOU!"

"WHAT'S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?"

"IT MEANS THAT NOTHING ABOUT YOU IS AWESOME AMERICA! NOW SUCK-"

"YOU TAKE THAT BACK! I'M SO FREAKIN' AWESOME IT'S BLOWING YOUR FACE OFF!"

"I'LL TAKE IT BACK IF YOU SUCK THE TEA!"

"NEVER!"

"SUCK THE TEA AMERICA! SUCK IT! SUCK IT! SUCK-"

"Well, this is awkward."

All eyes flew to the tall blonde country who had just entered the room. England and America froze, with England still shoving America's head towards his shirt, and America still frantically claw at England's face.

"Ger- Germany," said England, letting go of America, who fell on his face now England's hand wasn't supporting his body. Germany looked down towards the stain on England's trousers. America picked himself up off of the floor.

"This...This isn't what it looks like," England stuttered whilst shaking his head. Germany raised an eyebrow. "It's just tea..." England gestured feebly.

"And you were forcing him to suck...the tea?" asked Germany.

England nodded, realising it was a foolish idea, and he'd severely over-reacted. "He didn't believe me...didn't think it was tea..."

Germany smiled. "I understand. The same sort of thing happens to me all the time."

The three other countries looked down and cringed. For some reason, Germany seemed tp be wearing only his underwear. He had no trousers on, and seemed completely oblivious to the fact.

"Dude," said America. "where are your pants?"

Germany looked down, and then back again. He continued to be completely oblivious.

"Seriously," continued America as subtly as he could, "why aren't you wearing pants?"

Germany looked down again, and almost registered that something was wrong.

"Well," started England, clapping his hands together, "this is awkward."

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><p><strong>Extended Author's Note: <strong>

I'd had the idea for this lurking in my head for a while. I finally decided to write it in the summer, in a tent, whilst complaining about how the tea we had was sucky because no one had brought decent teabags and we had to buy the campsite's own, seeing as they refused to sell us anything else. My only means of news was a portable radio that didn't really work, so sorry if the stuff about the earthquakes and the shark attack and the riots didn't actually happen. The radio was crappy.

The views in this aren't my own views on America, the French language, US English or England, they're the views of the characters. Or at least, they're supposed to be the views of the characters, I'm not that great at actually writing them in character. I realise that this is mostly dialogue, but two of them are just yelling at each other for the majority of the story, and that doesn't really need much description. Also, I ran out of synonyms for "shout", and didn't want to be repetitive. This kinda failed, because I'm pretty sure the entire story is repetitive. But whatever; it was fun to write, and I hope it's fun to read.

As for the ending, I have no idea why Germany isn't wearing trousers. I'll let you come to your own conclusions about that.


End file.
